


I'll Try Anything Once

by dragonspell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, POV Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-04
Updated: 2010-01-04
Packaged: 2018-08-11 17:57:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7902271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonspell/pseuds/dragonspell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Ronnie Skurski is a 6' 3 Nordic God and right now he's got me spread out over his blue sheets.  At age 20, I finally figured it was time to up the ante a little.  I’m not gay—I like girls.  I’m just curious and well, I’ll try anything once.  I've heard, though, that this can hurt like Hell.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Try Anything Once

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from Livejournal 8-28-16.

**Title:** I'll Try Anything Once  
**Author:** [](http://dragonspell.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://dragonspell.livejournal.com/)**dragonspell**  
**Series:** Supernatural  
**Pairing:** OMCxDean  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** Pre-series.  
**Summary:** _Ronnie Skurski is a 6' 3 Nordic God and right now he's got me spread out over his blue sheets. At age 20, I finally figured it was time to up the ante a little. I’m not gay—I like girls. I’m just curious and well, I’ll try anything once. I've heard, though, that this can hurt like Hell._  
**Word Count:** 3560  
**A/N:** All I wanted to do was take a nap but he wouldn't stop talking...

  
Ronnie Skurski is a 6’3 Nordic god. Seriously. Swear to freaking God, he’s got to be, like, Thor reborn or something. Or maybe that Baldur dude. Odin. Hell, I don’t know. I was never up on all that mythology crap—that’s Sam and Dad’s thing, not mine. Give me something solid and fairly modern any day, right? Not creation theories and made up stories.

Anyway. So Ronnie. He’s blonde with these big blue eyes and the perfect Sweedish milk-pale skin. He’s also got a boner the size of a horse and it’s all for me. He’s got me spread out on the blue sheets of his queen-sized bed, completely buck naked and panting like I just ran a damn marathon. I’m sweating and nervous and just a little bit terrified. I’m trying to cover it with some cocky blustering but I’m pretty sure he’s seeing right through me, damn it anyway. He’s smiling softly and whispering “It’s all right. I’ve got you. You’re fine,” into my skin like I’m a skittish colt or something. I want to tell him to just get on with it, already, but I really don’t trust my voice at the moment.

I just met Ronnie three days ago, when he pulled his ’68 GTO into the garage I’ve been working at in my spare time—time when I’m not hunting with Dad or taking care of Sammy. Jim, the garage owner had taken one look at it and called me over because he knows about my thing with classic cars. It’s not my fault I practically grew up in one—any guy would have a bit of an obsession after that. But anyway, I’d taken one look at the cherry red beauty and fallen in love. As for Ronnie, well, I’d certainly noticed how he'd been looking me up and down.

And I may or may not have bent over the hood a little more than normal just because he was watching.

Anyway, three days of flirting back and forth later and it's finally led me and Ronnie here, to the house that he’s renting from his parents. I’d figured at 20, it’s finally time I upped the ante a little.

I’ve fooled around with guys before, don’t get me wrong. I kissed Peter Sweetwater behind the school, jerked off Steve Kenly in the boys bathroom, blew Jordan Montgomery underneath the bleachers and banged Danny Gerkins in the backseat of the Impala and those are just all of my firsts. There’s one thing I haven’t done, though, and I think it’s about time it finally happened and Ronnie here, he’s more than willing to help me out because I know he’s been wanting to fuck me ever since he first saw me.

So, yeah, I’ve messed around with guys before but I haven’t had anything up my ass except for my own fingers and that’s about to change.

I’m not gay—I like girls. I’m just curious and well, I’ll try anything once. Frankly, I’m surprised I’ve even gotten this far on the checklist because while Peter Sweetwater had been a phenomenally good kisser who'd left me wanting more, Steve was nothing to write home about and Jordan may have reciprocated but his technique was a little less than stellar. So nothing special except that Danny Gerkins had been an amazingly little cocksucker and not only had known exactly what he wanted from me, but had known how to get it too. He’d laid me out in the back of the Impala, slicked me up and rode me like a damn pony. Something about those Southern Baptist kids, I tell you. Kinky little fuckers. Think it’s all the repression.

Ronnie, though…like I said, Ronnie’s some kind of freaking god. I haven’t been this nervous about sex since my first time back when I was 13 because yeah little Danny might have liked it but I’m not all that into pain like he was and I heard this can hurt like a sonofabitch but Ronnie’s doing a pretty good job putting me at ease. Anyone other than him and there’s a good possibility that I might have bolted long before now and left my dignity and reputation in the damn dust.

It’s like he _knows_. He’s kissing down my chest, fingers playing with my nipples like I’m a girl or something but with the sparks it’s sending down my spine, I’m not about to complain. I guess if I’m about to banged like a bitch he can play with them just as long as he’s aware that it is a guy he’s doing. Lucky me, though, he seems quite aware of that fact—his fingers are teasingly stroking over my cock, just these light, maddeningly short strokes, but at least he’s touching me.

His mouth moves to the right to lick and suck at my nipple and I groan, burying my hands in his blond hair. He nips at the bud, just a tiny pinprick of pain before he sucks it up into his mouth until I’m just about ready to squeal Uncle.

Fuck but that feels good. I bury the side of my face against the sheets and bite at the pillow to stop myself from saying something embarrassing like begging him to fuck me or something. He’s playing with the other nipple with his fingers, squeezing it and tugging on it and _fuck_ , who knew this could feel so damn good? I’m half a second away from coming and just like he knows, he suddenly lets up, pulling away.

I groan in disappointment and the fucker laughs. “Told you you’d like it,” he says, rubbing it in that I’d been a little bit suspicious over the whole nipple thing.

“Fuck,” I say eloquently and he laughs again.

“You’re more sensitive than I thought you’d be, though,” he says, moving to cover me again. I tense, thinking he’s about to go back to sucking on my damn tit but he just starts kissing down my stomach. “More sensitive than a girl,” he adds and I’d be offended if he wasn’t busy possibly making his way down to my cock.

He stops at my belly-button, though, flicking his tongue in and out like some kind of imitation of tonight’s big entertainment and it shouldn’t be hot but it is. I like the way the slick muscle swirls on my skin and it’s giving me a clear picture to something I’ve been fantasizing about all damn day now. Fucking tease anyway.

“Not a girl,” I gasp out, my stomach muscles jumping with each soft lick he gives me.

“Well aware of that, thanks,” Ronnie says and that’s all the warning he gives me before his tongue is suddenly out of my belly-button and licking up the shaft of my cock.

I choke back a scream as I curl up around his wonderfully, amazingly talented mouth and then I flop back down on the bed, trying to encourage him to take more, more, more. Ronnie chuckles and flicks the tip of his tongue against the head of my dick, licking up bits of the precome I’ve started leaking like a damn sieve. “You’ve got prettier equipment,” Ronnie whispers before he takes my whole damn dick into his mouth. This time I do scream, though I’m going to deny it later. Hard not to, though, when my cock’s enclosed in that slick, wet heat, especially when Ronnie starts sucking better than a damn Hoover. Holy _fuck_.

I whine and twist, unable to stop myself from being so damn pathetic because Christ, I can’t even think. I can just feel and God, it's _good._ Fucking amazing with his mouth around me, sucking hard, his tongue flicking wherever it wants. Ronnie closes a hand around the base of my cock, keeping me still and steady as he works his mouth up and down my dick for awhile and I’m straining against his hold because every instinct I have is screaming for me to start thrusting.

My vision’s going hazy around the edges, my eyes slowly sliding closed and I moan, tightening up on the bed. Fuck, I’m going to, I’m going to—

Ronnie’s mouth pulls away and I whine in disappointment. Fucking A. “Tease,” I hiss, hips bucking up as I try to beg him without words to get back down there and finish the job.

“Impatient,” Ronnie shoots back good-naturedly and what the fuck is he waiting for anyway? Christ, I’m going to _die_ over here waiting for him. He laughs at my frown, already guessing what’s on my mind. “It’ll be worth it, I promise,” he says and there’s something slick pressing insistently at my ass.

My eyes widen and my breathing speeds up as my muscles tighten. God, this is going to hurt, isn’t it, I think, and I start wishing that Ronnie had a least let me orgasm before he tried anything.

“You’re tensing up,” Ronnie whispers. “Just relax, Dean.” And that’s real fucking easy for him to say—he’s the guy on top, after all. “Just relax,” he repeats and then his mouth is back on my dick and I forget all about the finger pushing against my ass for a bit because _goddamn_.

It’s not until he lets my cock slide out of that sinful hotness that I’m even aware of what’s going on and by then, Ronnie’s wiggling happily in my ass. My eyes go wide because it’s definitely a new experience, having something inside me and moving like this and I’m trying to decide if I like it or not. “Oh, you’re pretty…” Ronnie breathes. My heart gives a little thump at the words because I take it I’m doing good so far. “You’re gorgeous, Dean, so gorgeous…” He leans up to give me a kiss and yeah, Ronnie’s a good kisser, too. He flicks his tongue against my lips and into my mouth and I just fucking surrender to him with a groan. My eyes slide closed as I push myself up onto my elbows and fist my hands in the bedsheets. His free hand, the one that’s not in my ass, is rubbing circles into my inner thigh while the index finger of his other curls inside me. Before I even know what I’m doing, my legs are spreading and Ronnie’s whispering to me about how good I am, how perfect. I swallow and spread wider because I want to make him happy.

I’m still a little unsure about how I feel about Ronnie’s finger inside me, moving and fucking in and out just a tiny bit. It feels kind of strange, but it’s not all bad, either. That is, I’m unsure until he crooks said finger and the fucking Fourth of July shoots up my spine and into my brain.

“ _Christ_!” My arms give out and my back arches and Ronnie, the bastard, does it again. My entire body jerks, my dick oozing precome onto my stomach. My head is lolling to the side as my brain tries to reboot. What the hell was that? Ronnie crooks his finger again and I end up humping his damn hand.

“Guess that feels good, huh?” Ronnie asks with a laugh and I don’t even bother to glare because I’m too busy gasping for air. “That’s your prostate, Dean. It generally likes being touched.”

How nice for it. I think I might like it being touched too. I try to say something smart, but all I can manage is a whimper so I just give up and let Ronnie go back to torturing me. Jesus Christ on a fucking pogo stick. At least I’m getting used to it now so I’m just doing a full-body shiver whenever he does that little move of his, instead of losing total control. I’ll take that as a win. “Just think,” Ronnie whispers, moving to lick at my neck. “That’s just my finger. What do you think it will feel like when it’s my cock?”

My own cock leaps with his breathy little question and fuck, I’d almost forgotten what we were here for. We’re not even close yet! Jesus, I really _am_ going to die tonight, aren’t I?

Ronnie’s pulling out his finger to try pushing two in and I grunt because just like the first time, I’m not sure if I like it or not. “Dean,” Ronnie says and I can hear just a tinge of desperation straining his voice, “you gotta trust me, okay? Gotta trust me...” I force myself to relax a little for him and his fingers finally works their way in, wiggling inside me again. Ronnie groans and drops his head onto my stomach, breath shuddering against my stomach and my dick jumps towards him. “God, I wanna be in you…”

I throw dignity to the damn wind and mewl because fuck, I want that, too. God, do I ever. I’m still not sure I’ll like it but Jesus, at this point, who cares?

Ronnie presses his fingers up against my prostate again and my back arches automatically. “Can I?” he asks and for a moment, I’m confused about what the hell the question is. “Can I? Dean, please, can I?”

It hits me like a freaking freight train what he wants and I suck in a breath and nod ‘cause yeah. Yeah, let’s get this damn show on the road. The sooner he gets in me, the sooner I can start screaming in orgasm. Ronnie starts kissing me again and I moan and let him, kissing him back. Fucking talented mouth, man.

Then he’s pushing something bigger and more blunt than his fingers at my ass and I’m instinctually tensing again, waiting for the pain. I’m hoping it’s just going to be a quick stab of it and then it’ll be over and I won’t have to think about it anymore but Ronnie’s whining like he’s the one in pain as he hovers over me, his head resting against my shoulder. He’s trembling and I run my hands over his smooth skin, trying to calm him down or something. He’s not moving and I’m not exactly an expert at this, but I’m assuming that that’s not exactly good. “Something…something wrong?” I ask hesitantly. Maybe I’m supposed to be doing something here?

Ronnie shakes his head in a definite no and the tightness I didn’t even know was around my chest loosens. “No, everything’s fine,” he says. “You’re perfect.” He leans up to mouth at my jaw. “Just relax for me, okay? I’ve got you, just trust me…” I tilt my head to allow him better access and he starts the slow slide in.

I’ve got to admit, it certainly feels better than I thought it would. There’s an unfamiliar ache, a kind of strange awkwardness, but nothing like the brutal stabbing I thought it’d be. It feels…kind of good? Kind of not, kind of so—I’m flipping back and forth so much I really can’t make up my damn mind. It feels weird to have something pushing inside of me but I can’t say I dislike it. I, mmm, kind of like being ‘filled,’ I think. Yeah. I lick my lips, deciding to like this whole thing, and let myself collapse down against the bed (when had I been holding myself up?) and Ronnie slides the rest of the way in with a soft moan that I echo.

He holds himself there, just panting against my neck and trembling until I roll my hips impatiently. I gasp at the feeling of him sliding inside me, at how the movement makes the base of his cock stretch the muscle of my asshole. Fuck but that feels kind of nice, too. Ronnie’s panting down at me, watching me explore the new sensations, and he bites his lip, eyes clouding over. I jump as I feel soft questing fingers press against where we’re joined but groan as they push against the sensitive skin there. Christ…

Ronnie’s giving me a quick kiss, just a brush of his lips against mine and then he slowly starts to pull out. I grimace because, Jesus, it feels like I’m taking the mother of all shits except that I’m not but I really can’t be sure of that, you know? I feel just a little bit panicky, wondering if maybe I imagined cleaning myself out before all this got started but then I realize that not only would that be a really weird thing to dream, it’s so embarrassing, I don’t think I’d even admit to it.

Ronnie, though, apparently has no idea of what I’m thinking, because he’s pushing back in with this sweetly blissful look on his face and fuck, yeah, that feels really nice. It’s like I’m starting to get used to him or something, because even that little ache is gone and God, but I’m loving the burn of his dick against me—how he’s filling me. Ronnie keeps the rhythm slow as he pulls out and repeats the motion, hips lazily bumping against mine and I’m thinking this is good and I can definitely live with it until he grips my thighs and angles me upward.

His dick slides against my prostrate and just like with his fingers, I’m seeing stars again and this whole thing is no longer just “good,” it's freaking _fantastic_. _Jesus_ , I think wildly as Ronnie does it again, so _this_ is why guys do this.

I can’t fucking control my mouth anymore and my lips are forming gasping little moans and “God” and “yeah, fuck me” like I’m some kind of two dollar whore but I can’t care at the moment. All that currently matters is me and Ronnie’s dick and my sense of shame can go take a hike at the moment because there’s no room at the inn.

Ronnie’s sucking kisses against my throat and he may or may not be leaving hickeys but all I can really focus on is how his one hand is curling around my dick. I whimper as he gives me a soft stroke, his hand swiping up over the head and smearing the precome over the sensitive skin. “Yeah…” I gasp, shamelessly begging for it now, “just like that…”

Ronnie’s still fucking into me, but his rhythm’s starting to get faster and harder and every now and then, it’s like he loses his mind for half a second and his hips stutter out of rhythm before he can find it again. I’m gasping and moaning underneath him, though, twisting with each increasingly demanding thrust because I just can’t get enough of it. His hips are slamming against mine, his balls slapping against my ass and my entire body is starting to tighten with something other than nervousness, now.

“God,” Ronnie breathes, nipping at my neck, teeth just barely on the gentle side of the line and edging closer and closer to roughness. “pretty baby…”

I hear the ‘baby’ and some small part of me wants to yell that I’m not a chick but it’s quickly drowned out by the chorus of hell yeses the rest of my body’s saying. He gives my dick an extra firm tug and I’m coming so damn hard, the world fades to white. I bite down hard on my lip to try and cut off the scream, but it’s coming anyway, just more muffled, and my back’s arching, my toes curling and goddamn but Ronnie keeps fucking me all the way through it and it’s just goddamned _awesome._

I sob and twist, unable to keep myself still with the fireworks exploding along my nerves and Ronnie’s panting like a dog in my ear. His hand is still rough on my dick and it’s starting to push just a little past pleasure when he suddenly lets go and grabs my hips to slam me down onto his cock. My eyes go wide as he pounds into me a few more times before stilling and I can just _feel_ him coming. He’s wearing a rubber so I’m not feeling his spunk or anything but I’m feeling his dick spasming, pulsing inside me and fucked if I don’t decide I kind of like it. It makes me shiver and I grab a hold of him to keep him inside me for as long as he’s going to keep that up.

Ronnie collapses on top of me with a sigh, nuzzling at my throat which I’m pretty sure has a hickey or two by now but I don’t really care. Wouldn’t be the first time I'd come home with them. Sam will pout and Dad will roll his eyes but nobody will say anything or really care. I wrap my arms around Ronnie and hold him close to me, not giving a shit about how heavy a Nordic god can really be ‘cause I think I might have kind of liked this.

Oh, fuck it. I loved it and I know I’m going to do it again sometime.

Just too bad we’re leaving tomorrow ‘cause otherwise, I’d give Ronnie another go or three. I smile, though, because Hell, there’s still a good ten hours between now and when Dad told me to make sure my ass was in the Impala or he was leaving without it. That’s enough time to try out a few more positions, right?  



End file.
